


Aduial

by FebobeFic_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28714530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FebobeFic_Archivist/pseuds/FebobeFic_Archivist
Summary: A dark exploration of Frodo's arrival in Rivendell following his wounding at Weathertop.
Kudos: 3





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> This Prelude honours belatedly the birthday of Elwen, beloved FrodoHealers member, talented author, exquisite RPer of Elrond, and dearest of friends. . .happy birthday, mellon nin!

Time.

It is time.

The room fairly sang, the melancholy refrain pouring forth from walls even in the still air. 

Arwen Undomiel drew her breath in sharply, looking about with anxious eyes. Of all the rooms in Imladris, were they right in choosing these and these alone to shelter the Ringbearer?

Something sang to her that the answer would not be found upon her father's lips, nor indeed from any. She knew it already, had known it from the moment she had seen him pass in the hall and had gone wordlessly to help him. But he had disappeared once more, summoned by the twins for some word that they insisted he must hear.

She had stayed behind. These rooms had been kept well aired for centuries, though no one ever returned from the West. But they were in the innermost part of the main house, and looked onto the central courtyard with a single long window to which trellises of creeping roses clambered, weaving their way up to kiss the sill like so many handsome suitors to a royal bower. It had been Celebrian's haven.

Her only one, during those final months before she sailed.

The rooms contained not only this, the bed-chamber, but a dressing-alcove, a water-closet, and a large bathing-room as well as a small kitchen and a beautiful sitting-room. From there, a corridor led to Elrond's chambers. There was no nursery: so long as the children were small, Celebrian had kept them all in this room with her, and Arwen remembered fancying herself a princess as she looked out over the roses, blissfully reciting carefully composed speeches to her imaginary courtiers below. 

Her world began in this room.

And now, it seemed, here it might end.

Once Galadriel had allowed her to look into the mirror, long ago, just after Celebrian sailed, leaving the Lord of Imladris in such grief for some time that Arwen began to wonder whether she might be sundered from both parents. It was Galadriel who spoke to him, though Arwen knew nothing of what her grandmother had said, save that their hands glowed like cold fire as they clasped. It was after that night that Arwen had gone with her grandparents to Lothlorien while her brothers returned home with their father, though Elrond's eyes as he watched her ride away had nearly broken her heart. He had half-feared he might never see her again; she needed no words to tell her that. 

It was then that Galadriel had allowed her to look into the Mirror.

She still remembered it well. . .like liquid glass mingled with starlight it seemed to her, at once beautiful and icy to behold. 

But of late her dreams had begun to take on the same quality. . .and always. . .always those which did came to pass.

She saw Mithrandir, riding upon the wings of the great eagle Gwaihir.

Three days later, he had arrived. . .with news that unsettled them all.

And now. . .

They should have arrived days ago.

Estel was no stranger to the woods surrounding the home that had sheltered him in his earliest years. He had been taught every inch of ground by the twins themselves. Only up into the Cold-fells, toward dark Carn Dum which still stood stained with blood, had he never ventured. This she knew.

And her dream this time had been one of piercing ice, of Aragorn's voice crying aloud against the thrum of the heart's blood, and of utter and absolute darkness.

She had had no dreams since that night. . .October the sixth.


	2. Chapter 2

No.

No. . .

Useless.

Aragorn's heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he dropped to his knees, heedless of the sounds of the others following fast upon him. Far taller than the hobbits, with Glorfindel swiftly inspecting the area to ensure that all Nine had indeed been taken from sight by the Bruinen's crest, he had reached Frodo first, dropping from a run to kneel beside the still figure. 

It had all been for naught: his presence had come to nothing, in the end: they could have taken the One, whether he was there or no. They had not; that was not Sauron's wish, no. . .his plan was far more painful and twisted, beyond anything the hobbits could fathom.

With a sickened sigh, he removed his cloak and wrapped Frodo tenderly therein, leaving only the delicate features uncovered. Gathering the tiny bundle into his arms, he took Frodo's broken body up as gently as possible. If they were fortunate, Elrond might yet be able to remove the shard before the process was complete, and Frodo might be buried peacefully. He would have loved the garden filled with violets, Aragorn felt certain. . .Arwen's favourite walk; she would see to it that the small grave was closely tended and well-kept, honoured as it should be.

And the One?

Aragorn could not bear to think of it.

Cautiously he rose, still cradling the body close, reluctant to abandon the little Ringbearer to the cold that he had so dreaded, that had caused him to suffer so in his final days.

Eru. . . .

The Ranger's breath caught as he looked down into the small features: Frodo's eyelashes fluttered faintly, and a careful touch of fingers against the cloak-wrapped throat revealed the slightest sense of heartbeat.

He still lived. 

Frodo was alive!

And sadly, Aragorn could hardly decide whether it was better that the little one yet breathed. . .or whether it might, with what would certainly be ahead, have been better had he already found peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work is unfinished.


End file.
